The Year We Fell Apart (23 page)

He waves his hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.”

He grins. “Okay.”

I get in the backseat. To Mackenzie’s credit, we make it all the way down Declan’s driveway before she starts her giddy clapping.

“You guys are so cute!”

Cory shakes his head but wears a hint of a smile. “I’m staying out of this.”

I’M ON THE ROOF WHEN
Declan starts up my driveway. He spots me and nods a hello. I climb back through the window and down the stairs as quietly as possible. Mom is resting again.

He’s waiting for me on the porch swing. I close the front door behind me and cross my arms. Uncross them. Shove my hands in my back pockets.

“Hey.”

“Hey, you.” He smiles shyly, then leans forward, grabbing a notebook out of his messenger bag. “I was wondering if I could borrow your photography notes from Friday. I was kind of out of it in class.”

“Oh, sure. I don’t know if mine will be any better, but you can take a look.”

I go upstairs and snag my notebook off my desk, flipping through it quickly to make sure I didn’t accidentally write anything humiliating in the margins, like
Remember to pick up tampons
or
Harper + Declan 4Ever
.

Which, to be clear, I totally stopped writing in my margins years ago. But better safe than sorry.

I come back outside and Declan sits up a little straighter, running his hands down his thighs.

Sitting beside him, I hand him the notebook.

“Great, thanks.” He doesn’t open it. Or even look at it. He looks at me.

My palms feel hot. And sweaty. And I can’t stop thinking about yesterday, about his face against my neck, covering me in paint.

I resist the urge to sit on my hands. “No problem.”

“So what do you do up there?” He gestures to the roof.

“Just think, mostly. Or try not to think, depending on my mood.”

“What do you think about?”

“Oh, you know, fashion and makeup and whether or not I have split ends. Important stuff.”

His lips twitch. “I’m serious.”

I lean back and kick my toes off the ground, rocking the porch swing. “Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about my mom. And about going back to school; what that will be like now that I don’t have swimming.” I let the swing drift to a stop. “Sometimes I think about you.”

He takes a measured breath. “Yeah?”

I pick at the wooden seat and nod. The top layer of dirt scrapes off, catching under my fingernail.

Declan lifts his hand and traces my fingers. His touch is featherlight, like he’s trying to catch a soap bubble. His voice is low.

“Harp?”

I stare at our hands. “Yeah?”

“Why do you still wear my necklace?”

My heart speeds up. I lick my lips. Count to five. And finally look at him. “You know why.”

His eyes drift down to my lips and he leans closer. Gently, he tucks a curl behind my ear, trailing his fingers down and across my jaw. My organs start nudging each other around and my breath hitches, becoming megaphone loud. This is it; another point of no return.

“Declan . . . there’s something I need to tell you. About what happened. After you left.”

His eyes don’t leave mine. “Nothing I hear is going to change who you are to me. The only thing I need to know is how you feel about me now.”

I mirror his last touch, tracing his cheekbone. He takes a sharp breath in, keeping completely still. “I’m wearing your necklace, aren’t I?”

A smile comes and goes across his face in a wave. “Then I guess we can stop talking.”

He leans in again. My eyes drift closed, and I wait.

The front door swings open. Declan and I jump apart, and I immediately cover my mouth and tug at my shirt, basically looking guilty as sin. Declan rubs the back of his neck and nods to Graham, who is giving him an arms-crossed, big-brotherly glare.

“Morning,” Graham says.

I grit my teeth and smile. “Go back inside, please.”

He frowns. “But it’s so nice out. And I could use some vitamin D.”

“So drink a glass of milk.”

He wrinkles his nose and sits on the steps. “Nah. Where’s the fun in that?”

Declan stands up. “Hey, I’ve actually got to head to work.”

I stand too, tucking a stray lock behind my ears and trying desperately to think of a way to hit rewind. Declan’s hands were in my hair and his mouth was so close, I could taste his breath. We were going to kiss.

But now he won’t even look at me. He shoves his notebook into his bag and hands mine back to me. “I think I’ll probably be fine without those. But thanks anyway.”

“Oh . . . okay.”

He steps around Graham. I follow after him, giving Graham a light kick on my way by. We stop at the end of my driveway.

“So, um, you’re going to work?”

“Yeah, one of my last shifts.”

“Oh, cool.”

Declan shuffles his feet. “I’ll be done around six. We could hang out then. If you’re free tonight.”

“Okay!” But then it hits me. “Wait, no. Sadie’s been bugging me to go to this party with her. But I can get out of it.”

“Nah, you don’t have to do that.”

Now I’m really confused. Does he want to hang out with me or not?

“Well, how about if I text you when we’re on our way. You could come with us.”

“I don’t know. That’s not really my scene.”

“It might be fun,” I say hopefully. “I just . . . I really want to see you.”

He softens. His shoulders relax and his smile comes back. “I want to see you too.”

“Great,” I say. “So it’s settled.”

  *  *  *  

The minute we arrive Sadie pulls a pint of vodka out of her purse and takes a swig. Mike Wright saunters over and offers her a cup of beer. He’s an ambassador, a scout for the rest of the guys sitting around a patio table calling her name. Apparently Sadie doesn’t mind that he’s clingy anymore. She passes me the bottle, promptly forgetting about it. And about me.

I’m alone, surrounded by people who aren’t friends. Tightening the cap and tucking the bottle under my arm, I pull out my phone. Declan hasn’t responded to the text I sent earlier tonight. But I figure he probably got home from work late. And then he would have had to eat dinner and shower and stuff. Right?

I text again.
Just got here. Let me know when you’re on your way.

I press send before I have the chance to second-guess it or add anything embarrassingly mushy.

Sadie is sitting in front of a bonfire across the yard. I wander over and sit in a lawn chair opposite her and Mike. I try to lose myself in the fire, but I’m acutely aware that twenty minutes have gone by, then forty, and Declan still hasn’t texted back.

I try calling. After a dozen or so rings, it goes to voice mail. “Hey, it’s me. I guess you got held up at work or something. . . .” I pause. Maybe he didn’t get held up. Maybe I’m getting stood up. “Anyway, hope to see you soon!”

Ending the call, I spin the bottle of vodka around on my knee. Sadie laughs in high-pitched peals at something Mike said. I run my fingers through my hair, untangling the ends, and wipe lip gloss off the corners of my mouth. He could show up any minute.

Someone collapses into the chair next to mine. I glance over and do a mental groan. Kyle grins.

“All alone tonight, Harper?”

“I came with Sadie.” I keep my eyes glued to the fire.

He looks over at Sadie, who is now sitting on Mike’s lap, turned away from us.

“Right.” Kyle pulls a glass pipe and bag of weed out of his pocket and packs a bowl. “Well, since she looks occupied at the moment . . .” He takes a pack of cigarettes out of his other pocket and extracts a lighter. “. . . and this is really more fun with someone else . . .”

He tilts his lighter to the bowl and takes a long inhale, holding the smoke in his lungs a few seconds before exhaling quickly. The smell is familiar to me now, despite my mom’s best efforts to hide her habit. He holds the pipe out to me.

“No, thanks.” I check my phone again. By now Declan has to have seen my messages.

My stomach twists painfully. In five days he’s leaving for school. What if tonight is my last chance with him? Or if this afternoon was and now it’s already gone?

I get up and pace a few yards away from the group. Gnawing on my upper lip, I dial his number again. With each ring, I repeat it in my head.

You and me. You and me. You and—

He answers.

“Hey,” I say. “Where are you?”

“Still at home.”

“Oh. . . . When do you think you’ll head over?”

He hesitates. “I’m not sure I can make it.”

My shoulders hunch. I kick my toe into the ground. “That’s too bad.”

I hear him moving around on the other end of the line. “Yeah . . . listen, I’ll try to stop by. I’ve just got some stuff to deal with here, and—”

“No, don’t even worry about it. It’s totally fine.” My voice trembles. I close my eyes as my skin grows hot. “Anyway, I should get back.”

“Okay. Hey, I’m sorry about this. I’d still like to talk later.”

No hard feelings, okay?

I don’t trust my voice anymore. “Mm-hmm, sounds good.”

“All right. Bye, Harp.”

“Bye.” My hands shake as I hang up.

I want to figure out when things changed. Because I thought after the hospital and the paint fight and the almost-whatever-that-was at my house this morning, I really started to think he still liked me.

I wanted so badly for him to like me.

I walk back to the bonfire and sit down next to Kyle. The flames dance in front of me, growing brighter as the sky dims. I hold up the bottle of vodka from Sadie and watch the fire through the glass.

Earlier tonight I was on my best behavior. While Sadie and I were getting ready, I didn’t have a single drink. I didn’t want to be drunk when I saw Declan. Didn’t want to be the girl who needs a cocktail to have fun anymore. But I don’t see what difference it will make now.

I don’t have a chaser, so I take my first sip quickly. It burns, like the bonfire reached down my throat and up into my sinuses. A few seconds later everything settles, and I take another sip. This time it’s nice and warm, working its way to my stomach-knees-toes.

Kyle exhales another puff of smoke. “Mind if I have some of that?”

“Be my guest.” I hand him the bottle, and he trades it for the pipe.

I’ve never smoked pot before. Drinking has always been my thing. But really, how bad could it be if even Mom smoked? It might be better than drinking. It might be exactly what I need.

“Change your mind?” Kyle sets the vodka on his armrest and holds out his lighter.

“Maybe.” I look at the pipe again, then around at the party. It’s just pot. People smoke it all the time. “Yeah. Why not?”

Bringing the pipe to my lips, I lean forward and Kyle lights it for me. Hot smoke fills my lungs, making them feel tight and itchy. I wrinkle my nose to put off coughing for as long as possible.

I hand the pipe back to Kyle while I get over my coughing fit, and sink back into the chair when it’s over. He smiles at me and then it’s my turn again. It’s easier the second time. The smoke floats straight up to the crown of my head.

After my third hit I ask, “Do you smoke a lot, Pooh Bear?”

He ignores my nickname. “What’s a lot?” He blows the ash out of the bowl and puts it back in his pocket. “Helps me sleep, though.”

I wonder what he really knows about sleepless nights. About dreams and nightmares.

“I don’t sleep much either,” I tell him.

He looks at me and I look at him and his mouth twitches into a smile, and then we’re both laughing uncontrollably over something that’s actually quite sad.

“Shit, my dealer got me some good stuff this time,” he finally says, running his hands over his face.

The vodka is still sitting between us. Suddenly I’m dying of thirst. I take a swig and pass it automatically to Kyle. Only an inch of liquid is left in the bottle, but I don’t remember drinking that much and I wonder how much was gone when Sadie gave it to me.

Actually, I’m having a hard time thinking straight about a lot of things. Like why Kyle is leaning so close to me, and why his hand is resting on my thigh.

I sit up straighter, crossing my legs and angling them away from him.

“I miss hanging out with you,” he says. His hand comes back, moving slowly but up, up more, on the inside of my leg now. Heat radiates from his skin onto mine. “Maybe we should go inside and catch up.”

I push his hand away. “I’m waiting here for Declan.” My voice sounds heavy in my head, and I’m not sure why I said that, anyway. I’m not waiting for Declan, because Declan isn’t coming. “I have to go to the bathroom,” I blurt out, pushing myself up and stumbling my way around the fire to Sadie.

Now that I’m standing, I feel the full effect of the past half hour and walking gives me trouble. Each step is like landing on sinking pavement. I lean close and whisper in Sadie’s ear, hoping not to draw attention to my unraveling state.

“Sadie, can we leave? I really want to leave,” I say quietly.

She pushes me away with one arm. “No way! This party is awesome; just go have fun.”

“Sadie, please—”

“What, couldn’t get ahold of Declan?”

“What?”

She glares at me. “Only time you come looking for me anymore is when he’s too busy for you.” She turns her attention back to Mike. “I’m not leaving.”

Everything crashes down on me at once. All of the worry over Mom, the doubts about Declan, and the realization that it is always going to be like this, me trying to keep up with Sadie to hold on to her as a friend.

So what if I’ve been spending time with Declan? She’s the one who cares more about her current hookup than her supposed best friend. And if she can’t be here for me when I need her most, we have nothing left to argue about.

Suddenly tears spill from my eyes, and I hastily wipe them away. “Fine.”

Pushing past everyone who’s gathered in front of the door, I stumble into the house. I find a bathroom and shut myself inside. Pulling out my phone, I scroll to Cory’s number. They’re best friends too. They talk all the time. Cory will know why this is happening.